


now we're smoking off the balcony, you're telling me profanities

by intertwiningwords



Category: IT (2017), Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Assortive Mating, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/F, M/M, Multi, Narcissism, Stranger Things/It Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 12:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18094328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intertwiningwords/pseuds/intertwiningwords
Summary: richie tozier goes to indiana to visit his friend beverly, and meets someone who looks incredibly familiar.





	now we're smoking off the balcony, you're telling me profanities

**Author's Note:**

> i know this ship is really controversial but i just wanted to say that this is NOT intended as incest in any way, shape, or form. i don't fuck with that and i think it's NASTY.
> 
> i was doing some research for psychology about how people are attracted to people who have similar characteristics to themselves, and i thought this would be a cool idea to try out!! it isn't meant to offend or harm anyone, especially finn, the actor who plays both of these characters.
> 
> all the characters are written as 18+!!

**assortative mating** \- a mating pattern, and a type of sexual selection, that impels individuals to mate with other individuals that share physical characteristics, referred to as genotypes and phenotypes (age, size, coloration, pigmentation, etc), than would be expected in random mating patterns.

 

* * *

  
  


The drive to Indiana is long, but Richie survives with a lot of Redbull and loud rock music.

It’s the summer before college, and he was going to visit Bev for one last hoorah before their chances of keeping in touch grew slimmer.

Sure, there was the internet, but that only did so much. Swamped with schoolwork and new friends, who knew if they would have time to shoot each other a few texts throughout the day?

The other losers hadn’t been able to come due to various reasons, but Richie wouldn’t take no as an answer from his parents, his bank account, or the forces of the very universe itself.

To say that he missed Beverly would be an understatement.

The summer before she moved, the two of them had grown closer than ever, even sharing a few kisses between cigarettes, which lead to them both revealing that they were bisexual to one another.

When she moved, they broke off whatever their relationship had been, if you could even really call it one, but pinky-promised to stay best friends, no matter what.

And so, with The Pixies blaring from his car radio, Richie drives past the  _ “Welcome to Hawkins, Indiana!” _ sign, itching to get into some mischief with his partner in crime.

He parks on the street outside the address Bev had given him, the apartment building definitely a step of from her old one in Derry (not to mention the serious upgrade in family members which she was living with).

Pulling out his phone, he shoots her a quick text to say that he’s arrived.

Within a minute, he sees a body sprinting from building’s door, and he flings open the car door and gets out, nearly being tackled right back into his seat by Bev’s hug.

“Missed you too, Bev,” he grunts, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her off the pavement.

She lets out a laugh, her bare feet dangling just above the ground before he places her back down, their grips on one another tightening still.

She helps him lug his bag upstairs and into the apartment, leading him into her bedroom. It looks almost the same as it did when they were younger; stacks of books, a keyboard, piles of eclectic clothing everywhere.

“My aunt was going to make you sleep on the couch, but once I explained that I wouldn’t be cheating on my girlfriend with you, and that if I did, I’d be smart enough to use a condom, she conceded to let you sleep in my bed,” Bev tells him, grin stretched wide across her freckled face.

“And Max is cool with that?”

“Oh. yeah. She’s still really close with her ex-boyfriend too. Plus, we trust each other,” she shrugs, sitting down on her bed. “She’s excited to meet you.”

Richie has only spoken to Max on quick occasions over FaceTime, but that was the full extent.

“I’m excited to meet her too,” Richie says. “Maybe I’ll hook up with her ex, and we can be one big happy family!”

Bev snorts, shaking her head fondly. “I’m afraid Lucas is seeing someone at the moment, and he would probably find you obnoxious.”

“Well, I am obnoxious. It’s my best quality,” he replies, flashing her a toothy smile.

She rolls her eyes and shoves at his shoulder playfully.

Damn, he had missed this.

 

***

 

Later that night, the two of them get dressed up for a night out.

“Dustin comes back from vacation tomorrow,” Bev explains as they walk down the street, and she wobbles a little in her high-heeled shoes. “Jane isn’t really allowed out, but she can hang out at people’s houses, so we’ll probably crash Dustin’s tomorrow night. And Will and Lucas also can’t make it tonight, but you’ll definitely get to meet them at some point. So, it’ll just be me, you, Max, and Mike.”

“Sounds like a foursome is bound to happen,” Richie says, waggling his eyebrows.

She elbows him in the ribs, but she’s laughing. 

They meet up with the two aforementioned friends at the arcade.

“Finally, we get to meet the famous Trashmouth Tozier!” Max greets.

Richie scowls at Bev for teaching her that nickname, but quickly moves to embrace her anyway. “Good to meet you, Mad Max,” he says, smirking.

“And this is Mike,” Bev says, pointing to the boy stood beside them.

Richie looks up, and his brows instantly furrow in confusion, then relax just as fast. There’s just something oddly familiar about the dude, but he rationalizes that he’s probably just seen him on Beverly’s social media before.

“And good to meet you too, man,” Richie beams, holding out a hand.

Mike gives him a shy smile. “You too,” he says, shaking Richie’s hand.

The four of them find shelter in the dingy arcade, which has somehow managed to stay open since the eighties, or so Mike informs them, and they take immense joy in hogging games from the younger kids.

It isn’t long until video games can only occupy them for so long, and so they make the walk back to Beverly’s apartment building and climb to the roof.

Max pulls a baggie from her bra, while Bev supplies the bowl and lighter from her own.

Mike and Richie share an astounded look at the wonders of female innovation, and watch the two of them move in an almost synchronized manner, grinding and packing the bowl tightly.

“So, Richie, tell us about Derry,” Max says after her first hit, passing the bowl along to Bev.

“Not much to tell,” Richie replies. “It’s a total shithole. A lot of bad shit happens there. A lot of hate crimes, shit like that. And the people are shitty too.”

“Hawkins isn’t that much better,” Mike speaks up.

“Well then, cheers to shitty hometowns!” Richie cries, taking the bowl from Bev and holding it up proudly before taking a hit.

Soon, they’re all relatively spaced out, and Bev has her head rested on Max’s shoulder.

“Take a picture, Rich, it’ll last longer,” she mutters.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to stare,” he says. “It’s just...have you two ever realized that you look alike?”

The two girls look at him in almost offended confusion, their faces scrunching in an incredibly similar manner, and all of a sudden Richie wonders if they need to do a DNA test and make sure that they aren’t cousins or something.

“I mean, we both have red hair. That’s about it.”

“No, okay, so you both have red hair, yeah, but not the same color, plus Bev’s is curly and yours is straight,” Richie begins to ramble. “But you both have freckles too, and blue eyes. You have similar complexions as well. And don’t even get me started on your mannerisms.”

The two girls look from him and back to one another, and then back again.

“I mean...I guess,” Max finally concedes.

“It’s actually psychology proven that we’re attracted to people who remind us of ourselves, or our parents!” Mike pipes up.

Richie points at Mike. “See! He knows his shit, guys.”

“Well, you and Mike look alike too,” Bev says. “I always thought it, but never thought to say it until I saw you guys standing together...It’s like, a little creepy though.”

Richie tilts his head and looks at Mike.

They both have dark brown hair, but Mike’s is longer and straighter, while Richie’s is a birds nest. Plus, the coke bottle glasses that sit on his nose and magnify his eyes surely make some changes. But he tries to conjure the blurry image of his own face in a mirror.

Wait a fucking second.

“Oh shit,” he says.

Mike chuckles. “I guess we kinda do, if you take away—”

“The glasses,” the four of them finish in unison, which sends them all laughing until their stomachs ache.

It’s two in the morning by the time they go inside, the four of them crashing in Beverly’s bed, someone managing to squeeze four bodies on the mattress. The fact that it’s up against the wall helps, as well as the way Bev and Max cuddle so closely together, they almost look like some strange set of conjoined twins.

 

***

 

Richie wakes up to find his face nestled against a warm chest which rises and falls slowly, a soft t-shirt beneath his cheek, and looks up to see his own—No,  _ Mike’s _ face.

God, he really needs his glasses to tell the simplest things apart, huh?

Bev and Max aren’t in bed anymore, and Richie feels his face flush at the thought of them finding him all curled up to a boy he’d met the night before. He almost would rather them find him after a one-night-stand, because at least then he’d have something to brag about.

The body below him stirs, and Richie quickly sits up and rubs at his eyes, willing the redness in his cheeks to fade.

Just as Mike props himself up on his elbows, turns his face to say who-knows-what to Richie, Bev bursts through the door.

“We made breakfast!” she announces proudly.

Richie all but runs out of the room, and it isn’t just because of the hunger rumbling in his stomach.

 

***

 

That night, Richie is formally introduced to the whole crew, or “party” as they seem to have affectionately dubbed themselves, just like back home how he belonged to the “loser’s club”.

Dustin’s garage is perfect for smoking he says, because his mom never comes in there.

“Let’s play truth or dare,” Bev exclaims once everyone is very much so not sober.

“What are we, in middle school?” Lucas asks.

“I’m down,” Max says immediately, wrapping an arm around Bev’s shoulders.

Lucas sticks his tongue out at her.

Dustin is dared to smoke two joints at once, which leads to a lot of coughing on his part, and Lucas answers a question about how far he’s gone with his new girlfriend. Max is dared to take off her bra, which she does expertly without removing her shirt.

“Richie, truth or dare?” Max asks, turning to him with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Dare,” he replies without thinking.

“Kiss Mike,” she says after a millisecond-long pause, as if she’s had this planned since last night. Richie would bet money that she has.

The two teens look at each other and shrug as if to say, _“why not?”_ , and scoot closer, noses nearly bumping before they lean in and press their lips together.

Mike’s hand rests on Richie’s cheek, and Richie holds Mike by the small of his back.

They pull away to the sounds of their friends wolf-whistling and cooing, and they break apart with equally blushing faces.

“Alright, Lucas, truth or dare?”

 

***

 

They’re sleeping at Dustin’s (except Jane, who got picked up by her dad in his police car, which scared the shit out of a bunch of stoned teens), all having claimed their couches and armchairs to curl up into.

Richie can’t sleep, though, something always tugging his mind back on.

He sits up, only to find Mike doing the same thing from across the room.

It takes approximately forty seconds for them to sneak into the back room and start making out, Richie’s glasses proving to be a serious hindrance in the matter.

“Here,” he says, taking them off and folding them carefully, placing them on the shelf beside his head.

Mike licks his lips, then smiles. “I see what Max meant, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“We do kind of look alike.”

“Oh...Does that make me a narcissist then, if I think you’re hot as fuck?”

“Well, if it does, I’m a narcissist too.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

And just like that, they’re back to kissing until Richie has sunk to his knees.

“Is this okay?” he asks, hands resting on the hem of Mike’s pajama bottoms but not tugging yet.

Mike nods frantically, and there’s already a bulge visible before Richie pulls his pants and boxers down, looking up at him with wide, brown eyes and thick lashes, oh so similar to ones on the face above him which is currently contorted in pleasure as Richie takes him into his mouth.

Mike cums quickly, stuttering and bright-red, and Richie swallows it with a twinge of distaste on his face. But, hey, he’s tasted worse.

“Do you want me to, you know, return the favor?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t—”

“I do want to.”

“Well, then, be my guest.”

Richie is ashamed to admit he actually cums faster than Mike did.

 

***

 

Nobody points out the hickies that litter both Mike and Richie’s necks, or their excessive bedhead, or the fact that they slept together on the old leather loveseat, pressed close together.

However, Dustin does question how Richie’s glasses wound up in the back room.

“Sleepwalking,” Richie answers sheepishly, though it sounds more like a question than an answer.

Everyone quickly pieces the puzzle together, knowing smiles shot in their direction, which makes Mike blush like mad.

Which, by the way, Richie finds adorable, though he can’t deny the color on his own face.

As they lounge around lazily, uneager to stand up and start their days, Bev eyes him from across the room with a look in her eyes that shouts simply: “I want details.”

He winks in her direction. But he can tell her later.

Right now, he just wants to relish in the feeling of Mike’s hand subtly resting on his thigh beneath the blankets, the scent of him, and the memories of last night.

Damn, he really owes Bev for this trip, huh?

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!! i hope you enjoyed, and if you did, it would mean the world if you could hit the kudos button, or even leave a comment if you feel so inclined!! feedback can really make a writer's day!! xx


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